


Oh, that's the way

by booktick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booktick/pseuds/booktick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean as serial killers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, that's the way

Disclaimer: I own none of this franchise.

Warning(s): Serial Killler AU, there will be most likely other things that I will let you all know about if I continue this into a chapter fic.

* * *

When Sam turned the page in the newspaper, the first thing that popped out was the missing page. There were small pictures with smiling faces and a name and age. All the things someone puts when reporting another missing and he glanced over the names. To see if…well, if could be recognized.

He won’t tell Dean that part because Dean took pride, it felt like, in looking through the papers—seeing the names…familiar faces. And that made his arms itch when he watched his older brother smiled at the paper and say something like _Well, damn, Sammy. There’s that boy you did a number on back in Lawrence._

 

And he looked back down at his palms again, staring at the redness of them. They had to run a few towns back after Dean got a bit too excited over a job. That’s what Dean called them-jobs…the family business. Things like that…to make it seem normal.

 

It was far from normal.

 

Families don’t go running around with shotguns and hunting knives in their trunks or take up camp at motels for months on time. That’s what Sam tells himself. He tells himself that because if he didn’t, he’d be on his knees and spitting out that morning’s breakfast. In chunks, that made his throat raw. That sort of puke, so he keeps his seat and takes deep breaths.

 

Dean was sliding in by the time Sam finally was able to look up. He doesn’t question the bloodstains on those jeans or the bruised knuckles. He doesn’t even question the fact that his big brother just licked those fingers like it was cotton candy. And he looked away, back at his palms.

 

"Hey, Sammy." And he won’t look up but Dean’s already grabbed his hands. Those wet fingers touching his, thanks for that Dean, and those eyes dug into his palms. They weren’t that bad, just some bruising and scrapes-that was it. But not to Dean, that wasn’t what it was to his big brother who would kill for him.

 

That’s what Dean always said anyway.

 

"They look raw…I’ll have to put bandages on them later. We’ll get a place up state, a motel room for a couple nights then maybe we’ll catch Dad-"

 

"No-"

 

Dean looked up that time and Sam could only glance at him a couple times before he gave out and stared at his scraped, red palms instead of his big brother. It was easier and yet his cheeks flushed. He shouldn’t be blushing in a time like this. This isn’t right, this is wrong-though Sam grew up like this…

 

He was taught it was a okay to take out enemies. Because of what happened to-

 

"Sammy. Look at me."

 

And Sam lifted his head, hair in his eyes and lips parted.

 

"Don’t ever say that again."

 

Say no? Was that what Dean meant-?

 

"We gotta survive, right?" He touched Sam’s cheek, and Dean’s eyes looked so warm. Dean wouldn’t hurt him, Dean loved him. Dean loved him and Sam loved Dean. That’s how it worked, they protected each other and would always do that. Sam’s stomach still tightened at the touch, those cheeks got hotter and his breath caught in his throat.

 

It wasn’t that Sam felt scared of Dean. He wasn’t. He loved Dean so fucking much, it made him physically ache in his chest and stomach-but…Dean didn’t seem too bothered at yanking him away from someone who stared a little too long. Dean was very protective and it was sort of hard to get sleep when someone had their arms tightly around you and their breathing is hot in your ear and against your throat. Or maybe that was how everyone slept, Sam wouldn’t know really.

 

And he smiled some “Yeah, I know, Dean.”

 

The heat inside the Impala had picked up even before Dean had got in, Sam’s palms felt sweaty. He told himself it wasn’t because of nerves. It’s not nerves, hell no, it’s just where they are. He doesn’t want Dean getting in trouble again, couldn’t afford another arrest. The last place they were the cops were paying an awful close eye on them especially Dean. To be honest, it was Dean’s fault on that arrest. Dean had made a smart ass comment, something about how he this was his first time and then he winked.

 

Sam had to work the street to get some money, wouldn’t steal from people even though he did it before. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t done that instead of giving himself to random guys. Sam knew what could happen, some cute person on the side of the road gets picked up by a car and is never seen again. Hell, that’s what they’ve done before…Sam knows.

 

But Dean was still staring at him. Sam should apologize or something, right? That’s what they did.

 

"Great." Dean let go and went back to buckling up. His eyes on the road before them. Sam didn’t ask what happened inside the gas station’s shop. It’d probably be in the newspaper anyway, robbery gone wrong maybe or some shitty thing like he tripped and hit his head too hard. Sam didn’t really want to think about that.

 

"So, let’s go get somethin’ to fill our stomachs." The Impala pulled out and Sam had to look over his shoulder at the gas station as they left. Shit, that was someone’s father…someone’s son…cousin…uncle…someone’s something and they just-

 

But he looked away, swallowed and sucked it up. Like he usually did, fingers picking at his pants. It’s better when he takes deep breath. So, that’s what Sam did.


End file.
